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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119604">The Trouble I Want</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyduckgreygoose/pseuds/greyduckgreygoose'>greyduckgreygoose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pining, Rough Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyduckgreygoose/pseuds/greyduckgreygoose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: </p><p>"Geralt does whatever he wants to Jaskier. All the time. He shoves Jaskier to his knees and Jaskier opens his mouth, he tells Jaskier to bend over a rock and Jaskier does. It's not a specific kink, it's just what Geralt does and Jaskier accepts."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>356</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Trouble I Want</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt is not a sentimental man. He only keeps around that which is useful. So to stay at his side, Jaskier tries to be something Geralt … can use. </p><p>Not that Jaskier is some simpering maiden. He takes his pleasure where he wills, and there is a secret, twisted part of him that enjoys Geralt's rough hands, his inhuman strength, his casual entitlement to Jaskier's body. </p><p>But what Jaskier enjoys doesn’t matter to Geralt. To Geralt, Jaskier is a warm body, a convenience when the nights are cold and the brothels are few and far in between. When he is in a certain mood, Geralt starts <i>looking</i> at Jaskier with an unusual focus, tracking his movements like a wolf would his prey. This could last a day or more, from the cool humidity of dawn to the last embers of their campfire as Jaskier unravels, chattering as if he's forcing the last of the words out of his head, fingers clumsily plucking at his lute. </p><p>Until Geralt loses his patience. </p><p>Sometimes he pushes Jaskier to his knees in the dirt, guiding his mouth with a hand painfully knotted in Jaskier's hair. He forces Jaskier to swallow his spend, even as he gags, tears and saliva running down his chin. </p><p>Or else against a tree, the bark scraping painfully against Jaskier's back as Geralt pins him there, biting at the skin above Jaskier's shirt until his collarbones are painful and red. They never kiss, which is a shame because Jaskier quite enjoys kissing, but Geralt's mouth is a weapon as sharp as his blade and not meant for soft things. They shake the tree with their fucking, Jaskier twining his legs around Geralt's hips, trying to brace his his body from being thrown like a rag doll, crying as Geralt's spit-slicked cock splits him like an axe splits wood. And again, and again. </p><p>Once, memorably, Jaskier is bent over a sarcophagus and fucked so roughly that he has bruises on his hips for <i>days</i>. It is the only time he ever feels genuinely afraid of Geralt - when he looks back to find Geralt’s face splattered in gore and his eyes black as pitch. Something beyond the adrenaline of the kill is driving him, some desperate emotion clawing at his back, something Geralt is trying to escape by forcing his sin into Jasker’s warm body. Jaskier screams himself hoarse that night, calling Geralt's name over and over as if trying to summon him back from hell. </p><p>As fun as that all is, Jaskier is relieved when they are allowed the luxury of a solid bed in a warm inn. This is the closest they come to miming lovers: Geralt, wine-drunk, offering Jaskier smile after smile until he's lightheaded with it. With the candlelight shining in his hair, Geralt is a drowsy lion, bloated with kill and uncharacteristically playful. He stretches his large frame over the entire bed, forcing Jaskier, complaining, to curl around his edges. He does not protest when Jaskier runs his fingers over Geralt's cheekbones, the prickle of stubble at his jaw, presses a thumb against his full bottom lip in an approximation of a kiss. </p><p>These nights, Geralt is easy to coax into a bath, and quiescent under Jaskier's soaping and perfuming until he isn't, and pulls Jaskier in with him. Between protestations on the behalf of his clothing, Jaskier groans as Geralt's hand finds his cock. </p><p>Then, Geralt takes his time. Which is much, much worse than a quick fuck in the woods because it involves Geralt's mouth on Jaskier's body and Geralt's fingers in his ass, screwing him so slowly and thoroughly that Jaskier feels like he's coming apart. </p><p>Jaskier enjoys opening his legs for Geralt and seeing the hunger in his expression. It makes Jaskier feel at once powerful and small, languorous and needy, gathered up in Geralt's arms like so much bounty, all for him, <i>only for him</i> to take and take and take and take.</p><p>And then, lying sore and sweaty with Geralt snoring softly at his back, Jaskier thinks that he may one day delude himself into thinking that this is something akin to love.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My <a href="https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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